Deep down, Brian Walker looked down on Robert Bennett, thinking this son of a live-in son-in-law was talented, but when it came to military experience, he felt he was no worse.

Back then, his panic was merely because he’d been frightened by the notorious reputation of the wokou.

In those days, under Brian Walker’s command, there was a newly enlisted, fierce and brave soldier who was undefeated in the army. But when he bullied an apparently frail old veteran too much, and that old soldier fought back with a do-or-die attitude, he killed the fierce recruit with a single slash.

True life-and-death combat still relies on experience.

Chris Bolton squinted his eyes, saying nothing.

Now that their relationship with Robert Bennett was out in the open, it was all about mutual use.

I have the army, you have the strategy—if we join forces, it’s a win-win, and we’re all brothers.

But if you’re incompetent... then don’t blame me for turning on you.

Everyone looked at Robert Bennett, wanting to see how this young prodigy would respond.

A group of military officers eyed him like tigers, but the seemingly frail youth just gave a mocking smile.

Robert Bennett glanced at Brian Walker, as if looking at a mischievous child, and asked, “When small groups of soldiers approach the coast, why do the wokou make a move?”

A smile appeared on Brian Walker’s tanned face. “The wokou love nothing more than defeating the local troops, then landing to plunder and slaughter.”

Only when the local garrison is terrified can they loot without restraint.

Some of the officers seemed thoughtful. Someone laughed and said, “Vice Commander Walker, that’s brilliant.”

“Yes! Vice Commander Walker’s plan truly shows a deep understanding of military tactics.”

No one liked being ordered around by a youth born of a live-in son-in-law.

The subordinate officers were a bit restless. Chris Bolton gave a dry cough. “Does the prodigy have any advice?”

“A bunch of idiots!”

Robert Bennett took the warm water handed to him by David Brooks, took a sip without looking at the angry officers, handed the earthenware bowl back, and said, “The wokou first sent dozens ashore. Logically, this group should be scouting the movements of the troops, but what are they actually doing?”

“Plundering villages!” Robert Bennett’s voice wasn’t loud, but his eyes were full of mockery. “Do you know what this means?”

No one could answer.

“It means this group of wokou is short on food,” Robert Bennett said coldly. “Otherwise, why would they plunder villages and alert the locals?”

“This is beating the grass to scare the snake!” someone exclaimed. “Right! Isn’t this exposing their own weakness? Once the locals know the wokou have landed, they’ll gather a large army, and the wokou will have to retreat in disgrace.”

Truly, with such civil and military incompetence, keeping the Ming alive for five hundred years is a Herculean task... Robert Bennett wished he could grab a stick and give this bunch of fools a good beating.

“This analysis is truly brilliant...” one officer lowered his head. “I always said Brian Walker was a fool, not even worth a finger of this youth.”

Brian Walker’s old face flushed, but he refused to admit defeat. “Go interrogate the prisoner.”

The captive, who’d had one eye shot out by Robert Bennett’s slingshot, was brought in. He sneered, “This winter, we’re sitting around with nothing to eat. If we don’t land and plunder, are we supposed to live on air?”

Seeing Brian Walker’s face turn ashen, he laughed loudly. “When the leader sees the troops, he’ll just sail off and land somewhere else. Unless you have hundreds of thousands of soldiers, you’ll never be able to guard everywhere, hahahaha!”

Brian Walker slapped the prisoner across the face, but everyone else looked at him with unusual sympathy.

As if that slap had landed on himself.

“Prodigy, please advise us.” Chris Bolton had not expressed an opinion from start to finish—a true old fox.

“Man is iron, food is steel; skip a meal and you’ll feel weak.” Robert Bennett walked down the steps, looking at the prisoner. “After the battle, we’ll immediately send troops to the coast. I’m certain the wokou haven’t learned of this battle yet.”

So, Robert Bennett had David Brooks pursue them for ten miles precisely to scatter the wokou, preventing them from returning in time. This youth plans ten steps ahead with every move... Chris Bolton felt a chill in his heart, realizing he hadn’t been sincere enough toward Robert Bennett.

“Also, for the wokou to take such risks, they must be short on food. Without grain, forget the leader—even the so-called emperor would end up in the pot.”

“Have someone pose as a grain transport caravan,” Robert Bennett turned, eyes shining. “Those two wokou who landed to scout will have to pass by on their way back. The caravan will move slowly along their route...”

“I’m going fishing!”

Robert Bennett looked at Chris Bolton. “What do you think, Commander Bolton?”

“The key is, are the wokou really out of food?” Chris Bolton looked at the prisoner.

The prisoner’s face was ashen. In his one remaining eye, as he looked at Robert Bennett, there was terror and despair. He rasped, “Boy, are you from a military family?”

I’m a bona fide little warlord... Robert Bennett said coolly, “Commander Bolton, what are you waiting for?”

“A bunch of idiots, get moving!” Outsmarted by this youth again... Chris Bolton felt a bit numb, and also a strange anger, so he barked orders at his subordinates.

George Foster said proudly, “My young master is a scholar, skilled in both civil and military affairs.”

David Brooks considered himself a follower of Robert Bennett, and said, “The prodigy is full of talent. You wokou, ignorant and uneducated, how could you escape his calculations?!”

“Stop showing off!” Robert Bennett coughed.

The next day, after the light mist cleared, a caravan appeared on the path.

The two wokou, unable to find William Adams’s group, instead ran into the dozen or so riders Robert Bennett had instructed Chris Bolton to station for an ambush, and had no choice but to quietly return.

“This is...”